When Only a Rake Will Do Page 3

  “Good evening, my lord,” Amelia and Lizzie replied in perfect unison, their smiles radiant.

  “Good evening, my lord,” Lady Daphne murmured, exhibiting far more reserve than her two companions, for in truth she was slightly awestruck by the handsome lord.

  “I’m sorry, I don’t believe I’ve had the pleasure,” Brendon said as his gaze settled upon Daphne Hewitt.

  “Lord Brendon, this is our dear friend, Lady Daphne Hewitt,” Lizzie supplied helpfully. “Daphne, may I present Lord Brendon Leighton.”

  “It’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance, my lord,” Daphne uttered softly, struggling to regain her wits.

  “The pleasure is all mine, Lady Daphne, I assure you,” Brendon responded with a polite nod and an engaging smile. Damn, he thought, the girl was even prettier up close, he thought, feeling an immediate attraction to the alluring beauty.

  “We’re so glad that you were able to attend this evening, my lord,” Amelia said, drawing his attention.

  “Yes,” Lizzie nodded in agreement. “Having just returned to London, we feared that you might have had a more pressing engagement.”

  “More pressing than the opportunity to partner you and your sister on the dance floor,” Brendon replied chivalrously. “Certainly not.” Not to mention that his own sister-in-law Ashleigh, as well as Lady Tiffany, would have had his head if he’d failed to make an appearance, for the two were longtime friends, as were their husbands. As such, the Leighton and Warrene families had long been each other’s greatest supporters.

  Watching Amelia and Lizzie, Daphne didn’t think that she had ever seen the pair quite so enthusiastic as they all but thrust their dance cards into Brendon Leighton’s outstretched hand. In truth, she could hardly blame them, for the sinfully attractive man standing before them was almost too good-looking to be believed. With dark wavy hair, piercing blue eyes and a face that would have undoubtedly sparked the jealousy of Adonis himself, he was the epitome of masculine perfection.

  Looking on as Lord Leighton scanned the remaining spaces on Lizzie and Amelia’s dance cards, Daphne watched, somewhat spellbound, as he selected a dance from each card before handing them back. Then, catching her unaware, he suddenly turned his attention back to her.

  “Would you be so kind as to honor me with a dance as well, Lady Daphne?” he asked with an entrancing smile.

  “Oh, yes of course,” Daphne said, giving herself a mental shake as she handed over her dance card. “I would be delighted to, my lord.” Watching as he penned his name upon the ivory-colored parchment, it felt as if her heart began to beat just a little bit faster. Then, when he looked up, holding her gaze as he handed back the small rectangular card, she experienced something altogether unfamiliar. It was the oddest feeling, one she wasn’t exactly certain how to define; a peculiar sensation that seemed to start within the very tips of her fingers and then rapidly progress throughout her entire body. It was somewhat disconcerting, though not unpleasant. No, she decided in the very next instant, the feeling was most definitely not unpleasant.

  It wasn’t until Lord Leighton had excused himself and walked away a short time later that Daphne glanced down at her dance card to see that he’d chosen to partner her in the third and final waltz of the evening.

  “Isn’t he the most handsome man you’ve ever seen?” Lizzie sighed, turning her wide-eyed gaze to Daphne.

  “Yes, he is quite attractive,” Daphne agreed; a gross understatement to say the least.

  “You know he rarely attends these types of affairs,” Lizzie effused, “and almost never dances with young, unmarried ladies such as us.”

  “Surely we three shall be the envy of every other female in attendance this evening,” Amelia exclaimed, clapping her hands excitedly.

  As she listened with half an ear to the sisters’ animated chatter, Daphne couldn’t help thinking that Amelia’s comment was likely an accurate one. Charming, aristocratic, adventurous, wealthy and far too handsome to be believed, Brendon Leighton was like a storybook prince come to life. No wonder the ladies of the ton were so enamored with him, so much so that it was rumored even the sternest, most formidable matrons had fallen under the spell of the charismatic young lord. In addition, the majority of Society’s marriage-minded mamas were said to willingly overlook his reputation as well, repeatedly attempting to thrust their young, unmarried daughters into his path, despite his rakish reputation.

  Now, having finally met the man she’d heard so much about, she could definitely understand his overwhelming appeal. Much to the chagrin of many of the ton’s female members, however, Amelia and Lizzie included, Lord Leighton had yet to display a romantic interest in any of Society’s eligible young misses or show the slightest inclination toward relinquishing his bachelor status and taking a wife.

  “Oh, here comes Lord Merriweather,” Amelia suddenly exclaimed, effectively breaking into Daphne’s thoughts.

  Daphne immediately turned her attention to the approaching gentleman for she was aware that despite Amelia’s fascination with Brendon Leighton, she had taken a marked interest in Lord Merriweather as well. Though not as handsome as Lord Leighton, Lord Maxwell Merriweather, heir to the Earl of Haywood, was an attractive fellow in his own right. With wavy blonde hair, big blue eyes and a large, brawny physique, he reminded Daphne of the Viking warriors she’d learned about during her childhood history lessons. Unlike those noble savages, however, Lord Merriweather was an affable, gregarious young man, displaying none of the ferocity and barbarism of the Norse seafarers of old.

  “Ladies,” he greeted with a polite bow as he came to stand before their little group. “I believe the upcoming set is ours, Lady Amelia,” he continued, his expression softening as he focused his gaze upon her.

  “Yes, indeed it is, Lord Merriweather,” she replied with a warm smile. Then, placing her hand upon the gentleman’s arm, she allowed him to lead her away.

  “Amelia is becoming quite smitten with Lord Merriweather, I think,” Lizzie said in a low voice as she moved a few steps closer to Daphne.

  Despite their ongoing infatuation with Brendon Leighton, Daphne wasn’t surprised by Lizzie’s comment, for the sisters were quite pragmatic after all and neither held out any real hope of luring that particular gentleman to the altar.

  “I believe you’re right,” Daphne murmured, smiling as she watched the pair make their way to the dance floor. “And considering the attention he’s paid her these past weeks, it would seem that the feeling is mutual.”

  Lizzie grinned. “I think so too.”

  “And what of you and Lord Palmerston?” Daphne asked, arching her brow as she turned back to Lizzie.

  “Whatever do you mean?” Lizzie responded with a look of wide-eyed innocence, though a sudden, telltale blush pinked her cheeks.

  Unconvinced by Lizzie’s feigned ignorance, Daphne merely grinned. “If I’m not mistaken, as Lord Merriweather seems to be paying quite a lot of attention to Amelia, Lord Palmerston seems to be paying quite a lot of attention to you.”

  For a moment Lizzie hesitated, but then she allowed a small, secretive smile to play upon her lips. “It does seem so, doesn’t it?” she murmured with a pleased expression.

  Daphne squeezed Lizzie’s arm affectionately. Despite her own misfortune, she was overjoyed to think that her two best friends might well be on their way to finding their own happily ever afters.

  Nearly two hours later, having smiled, flirted and danced with one gentleman after another, Daphne had grown increasingly weary of the whole affair. Sadly, what should have been an enjoyable, fun-filled evening was shaping up much like every other night had since the start of the Season earlier that month. Though she had attended numerous entertainments throughout the past weeks, none had brought her the enjoyment they should have, for the perverse ruse she was forced to enact at the behest of the Earl of Blackburn had taken whatever pleasures she might have found in the midst of her long-awaited debut and effectively quashed them.

  In fact
, it wasn’t until Brendon Leighton appeared before her a short time later to claim his dance that she felt a genuine rush of excitement and anticipation. How could she not, she asked herself, when the man was so extraordinarily good-looking. For despite her lackluster mood, she still had a perfectly functioning set of eyes after all.

  “Lady Daphne, I believe this dance is mine,” Brendon said with a genial smile as he stepped forward and offered her his arm.

  “It is indeed, my lord,” she said, smiling in return. Placing her hand upon his forearm she allowed him to escort her to the dance floor. And as they moved side by side through the crowd, and though it was probably just her imagination, it felt as if her heart began to beat just a little bit faster, just as it had earlier.

  Leading Daphne Hewitt onto the highly-polished parquet floor a few moments later, Brendon pulled her gently into his arms as the musicians took up their instruments and began the final waltz of the evening. “So, Lady Daphne, are you enjoying your first Season?” he asked politely as he guided her into the first turn.

  “Very much so, my lord,” Daphne dissembled, wondering if the blatant falsehood would ever get any easier to voice.

  Hmm, Brendon mused, though her smile was bright, her enthusiasm appeared almost feigned. But no, surely he must be mistaken, for wasn’t she Society’s newest darling? He paused, waiting for her to launch into an animated account of her initial foray into London’s social whirl, as he’d discovered most young ladies fresh from the schoolroom were want to do, especially those who’d managed to secure the ton’s favor, but surprisingly she didn’t elaborate. Graciously, he gave her another opportunity. “I have only just returned to Town, but I hear that you have taken the ton quite by storm.”

  Daphne shook her head. “My accomplishments are highly exaggerated, I assure you,” she replied with a self-conscious laugh.

  Brendon cocked his head, eyeing her curiously, for she had surprised him once again. Rather than taking pride in her success, a feat that most young women in her position would be over the moon about, she seemed almost discomfited by it. How very unusual and altogether refreshing, he thought to himself.

  “Is it true, my lord, that you have just returned from a voyage to Egypt?” Daphne asked then, eager to change the subject, in addition to being genuinely interested.

  “It is. And as it was my first visit to the country, my crew and I spent several days exploring its cities as well as many of its most-impressive marvels.”

  “Did you have an opportunity to visit the Great Sphinx of Giza?” she queried with unabashed curiosity.

  Brendon nodded. “We did, and I have to say that it was even more spectacular than I had imagined,” he said truthfully. “Quite awe-inspiring really.”

  “I can only imagine,” Lady Daphne replied with a smile, her tone slightly wistful. She’d seen it in pictures, of course, but to have viewed such a monumental creation in person had to have been a truly remarkable experience. “And the pyramids?”

  “Yes. We visited several during our stay,” he answered as they continued to move in time with the music, somewhat surprised by her obvious enthusiasm.

  “The Pyramid of Khufu?”

  “Indeed. The sheer size of it was staggering,” he replied. “In addition, my officers and I were fortunate enough to be granted a private viewing of the inner chambers, which were spectacular in their own right,” he continued.

  “How thrilling that must have been.”

  “Have you a particular interest in the country, Lady Daphne?”

  “I confess that I do,” she replied. “My eldest brother George enjoyed a great fascination with the history of civilization, you see, a subject he never tired of discussing. It was an interest we both shared, as was our particular fascination with the ancient Egyptians,” she explained, hoping he wouldn’t think her intellectual interests off-putting or perhaps consider her a bit of a bluestocking.

  “Ah, I should have known,” he said with a knowing chuckle.

  Wrinkling her brow, she regarded him inquiringly for while Lord Leighton didn’t seem at all put off by her admission, she found his comment rather puzzling.

  “I knew your brother well, you see,” Brendon explained as he spun Daphne into another turn. “We attended Eton together, in fact. George was a fine man and a good friend,” he added with absolute sincerity.

  “Oh, I didn’t realize that you and George were classmates.”

  “Indeed we were. And as I recall, he had a marked interest in many of the ancient cultures even then, as did I,” he continued, smiling fondly at the memory. “It was with great sadness that I learned of his death and that of your parents, Lady Daphne. Please know that you have my deepest sympathies.”

  “Thank you, my lord. It’s very kind of you to say so,” Daphne replied softly. “And if George were here tonight I’m quite sure that he would have delighted in assailing you with questions about your recent adventure,” she added in a lighter tone.

  “I have no doubt,” Brendon agreed with a smile, “just as I would have enjoyed recounting the highlights of my journey to someone who would have truly appreciated them. But as you, my lady, seem to be a likeminded individual, perhaps at some future point in time you will allow me to share some of them with you in his stead.”

  “Thank you, my lord,” she said, smiling in return. “I think that I would enjoy that very much.”

  As they continued to glide and turn about the dance floor, their conversation flowing with remarkable ease, Brendon could only marvel at Daphne Hewitt’s charm, wit and obvious intelligence. In addition, for one so young and new to the machinations of Society, her seemingly effortless air of poise and sophistication, combined with her apparent lack of vanity and self-absorption was both completely unexpected and utterly enchanting. No wonder she had managed to stand out so markedly amongst the latest crop of debutantes, he mused, for in addition to her exceptional beauty, her unique character was like a breath of fresh air to a milieu that had become stagnant and all too predictable.

  For Daphne, as the musicians played on and Brendon Leighton continued to sweep her effortlessly across the floor, it was perhaps the first time since making her debut that she didn’t feel as if she were playing a role. She was truly enjoying herself, her delight in the moment completely unfeigned. And despite her rapidly beating heart and the almost intoxicating feel of being held in his muscular arms, he had somehow managed to put her at ease. For once her smiles were unaffected and her conversation, no longer limited to the weather or to a tedious discussion centered upon Society’s latest on-dits, was entirely genuine. Oh yes, she thought to herself, she could certainly understand Lord Brendon’s appeal, for she was fast falling under the charming rogue’s captivating spell as well.

  And so, when their waltz finally came to an end, it was with a true sense of disappointment that she allowed him to lead her from the floor. “Thank you, my lord,” she said as he guided her through the crowd, “for the waltz, as well as the stimulating conversation.”

  “It was my absolute pleasure, Lady Daphne,” Brendon assured her with a heartfelt smile as he led her to her brother’s side. And it truly was, for he had enjoyed their waltz as well as their conversation, more so than he could have ever imagined.

  “Hello, Leighton,” Thomas greeted as they approached. “Just got back into town I hear.”

  “Yes, as a matter of fact I did.”

  “Humph. Would’ve expected to see you at Boodle’s or one of the other clubs tonight, not cooling your heels at a Society gathering,” he remarked with an incredulous expression.

  “And you likely shall see me there later this evening,” Brendon replied with a chuckle. “But as the Chesterfields are close family friends, I was more than happy to postpone my go round of the clubs until the later part of the evening.” Smiling, he turned back to Daphne. “Lady Daphne,” he said with a polite bow, “it was an honor to make your acquaintance. And now, if you will excuse me, I shall leave you to your brother’s care.�
��

  “Of course,” she replied with an answering smile.

  “Huxley,” he said with a polite nod, and then promptly took his leave. Though he would have enjoyed spending a few more minutes in Lady Daphne’s charming company, he dared not, for the speculative eyes of several match-making mamas and their respective daughters had already begun to linger upon him with renewed interest as he’d broken character by dancing with not one, but three unmarried young ladies that night.

  Unbeknownst to Brendon, one particularly assessing gaze had been scrutinizing his interaction with the Hewitt’s from across the room and continued to watch him as he walked away from the viscount and his sister.

  “I dare say that I have seen that look before,” Nicholas Leighton murmured to his wife as he noted the contemplative quirk of her brow and the calculating expression displayed upon her pretty face as she stared fixedly across the room. “What is it, or should I ask who is it, that has drawn your attention, my love?” he asked, turning his head to track the line of her gaze, following it until it landed upon a gentleman with features remarkably similar to his own. “Ah,” he said then, answering his own question with a slight, amused smile upon his lips. “And what, pray tell, has my younger brother done to warrant such sudden and intense scrutiny?”

  Ashleigh Leighton, Duchess of Sethe immediately turned to her husband, her features animated. “Did you see who he just led from the dance floor?”

  Nicholas looked back at his wife and shrugged, his expression blank.

  Ashleigh rolled her eyes skyward and then shook her head as if to say, why did I even ask. “He was dancing with Lady Daphne Hewitt,” she enlightened him. “And ‘twas a waltz no less.”

  “Ah,” he said, though his tone conveyed a decided lack of interest in his brother’s choice of partner.

  “Nicholas,” Ashleigh uttered with the slightest touch of exasperation in her voice, “can you recall the last time Brendon paid the slightest attention to an innocent young miss fresh from the schoolroom? Lizzie and Amelia Warrene notwithstanding, of course,” she added.